


it doesn't show signs of stopping (let it snow)

by quibbler



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, snowed in au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-08
Packaged: 2018-02-12 07:07:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2100213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quibbler/pseuds/quibbler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Abso---abso<i>bloody</i>lutely not, Leopold Fitz, It's too cold to take the covers off and you'll bloody suffocate."</p><p>"But I <i>want</i> to."</p><p>In which it snows a lot and the power goes out, and Fitzsimmons are stuck inside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it doesn't show signs of stopping (let it snow)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm ridiculously embarrassed to be posting this, but it was an anonymous request from Tumblr, so blame them? Un-betaed, 100% porn without plot, set in an ambiguous alternate universe where they work for the same company, likely very out of character. I haven't written full out smut in _ages_ , so please forgive me.
> 
> Christmas in August!
> 
> I don't own Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.--that would be Marvel!

"Oh, dear."

Jemma squints at the brightness of the outdoors, snow reflecting what little light that is being filtered through the clouds. The blizzard that passed through last night left at least two feet of snow blanketing the ground and as far as she can tell, it has barely let up. There is still snow falling and she crosses her arms over her chest, only just realising how bloody _cold_ it is inside their flat. She turns to look at the alarm clock plugged into the wall--nothing shows. The electricity must be out. " _Bloody hell_ ," she mutters, teeth chattering, before climbing back into bed.

"'S'wrong, Jem?" She smiles despite the situation at hand as she turns to face Fitz, her mobile in one hand as she reaches out to tap his nose with the other. His eyes are still closed but he reaches an arm out beneath the covers and pulls her closer to him. She's grateful for the warmth.

"I think we're snowed in, Fitzy," she whispers, checking her email as quickly as she can. If there's no electricity, she needs to conserve her batter power. "And look, we've a day off. No one can leave their homes today, it seems."

Fitz makes a sleepy, contented noise in the back of his throat and she reaches her arm back to place her mobile on her nightstand before pulling the covers up to her neck and wrapping her now free arm around him. " _Jesus Christ_ ," he yelps, eyes wide open now and Jemma tenses, her eyebrows shooting up toward her hairline. "Your hand! It's bloody _frozen_."

She relaxes, chuckling as she inches closer to him and presses her cold hand against the back of his neck. He flinches rather violently and she rolls her eyes. "It's not my fault, and besides, you're always burning at night," she says, protesting with little effort. "I think our heat is broken, so when we get out of bed later, we'll have to wear parkas and light loads of candles and get a fire started in the fireplace."

He gives her a wolfish grin and she can feel the blush rising from her neck up because she knows what he's thinking, knows him like she knows herself. "I know the best way to keep warm in situations like this." She swats at his shoulder, but he's staring at her with a slow fire burning in his eyes and she thinks combusting sounds like a rather good idea.

"Do you, now?" She raises one eyebrow and he tilts his head to brush his lips against hers. "Incorrigible," she says against his mouth, and he grins again.

"One of the many things you love about me," he murmurs in response, and she laughs, pulling him down over her. He smiles into the kiss, one hand pressed to her hip where her jumper-- _his_ jumper, really--is starting to ride up, balancing on his other forearm over their heads against the pillow. She has one hand sprawled across his back and the other threaded through the curls at the base of his neck. Jemma is content to stay like this forever if they could manage it, but Fitz's hand is tugging the jumper up further over her stomach and she breaks away, slightly breathless and he grins before pressing his lips just below her ear. "This needs to come off," he whispers and she can't help but shiver as he pulls away just enough to help her get the blasted article over her head. He tosses it over the edge of the bed and she rolls her eyes when it hits the closet door with a quiet thumping noise.

"This is hardly fair." She pouts in spectacular imitation of his usual expression and he laughs, moving to kneel before he reconsiders their situation. Instead, he flips onto his back beside her and quickly divests himself of his t-shirt and pyjama pants and all she sees are blurs of grey and plaid in the corner of her line of sight before he's pressing kisses to her collarbone. Her eyes flutter shut as his hands skim her bare stomach. " _Fiiiiitz_ ," she whines, drawing out his name far longer than is entirely necessary and he chuckles infuriatingly against her skin, drifting up to kiss her mouth.

"This is much better than going to work," he murmurs against her lips and she makes a noise of agreement in the back of her throat. He starts trailing kisses down her jaw to her neck, to her collarbone, to the skin between her breasts and she sighs contentedly. His thumbs brush lightly against her nipples and she gasps without meaning to, her hands draped over his shoulders as he continues to move down, kissing her stomach and lifting a hand to keep the blanket off of his head, the other hand slowly pushing her pyjamas down her hips. It takes the cold breeze that travels immediately down her skin to make her eyes snap open and she threads one hand through his curls, tugging up.

"Abso---abso _bloody_ lutely not, Leopold Fitz," she chides, and he winces at the force she's putting on his scalp. She loosens her grip and tilts her head up to brush her lips against his jaw now that she can see his face. "It's too cold to take the covers off and you'll bloody suffocate."

It's his turn to pout and he does so spectacularly. "But I _want_ to."

She rolls her eyes. "I'm dating a _child_ ," she mutters, before letting her head fall back against the pillows, running her fingers through his hair far more gently. "You can't spend twenty minutes between my legs under covers like these unless you've developed some alternative method of breathing. I'd rather my boyfriend _not_ asphyxiate, thank you very much, and I'll give up seeing a few extra stars tonight."

"But what a way to go," Fitz mutters, mostly to himself, but Jemma has to fight the laughter that bubbles in the back of her throat. He is still pouting so she pulls him down so she can kiss him soundly, running her teeth across his bottom lip. He groans and his hands shift back down to push her pyjamas and underwear down her legs and she squirms to get them all the way off, not willing to break away to take care of clothing removal. His hands rest against her hips, his thumbs drawing circles against her skin as she arches toward him. He pulls back, a mischievous grin on his face. "I think I can still promise stars." She feels one hand move away from her hip and she's about to retort when he presses a finger to her clit.

Her breath catches in her throat.

He has a knee on either side of her thighs and she vaguely considers just how much she's always loved his hands as he bends down to suck at the skin just beneath her neck, his finger still rubbing against her. She hums her pleasure as she presses her cheek to his hair, and his breath is hot against her neck when he slides two fingers into her, just barely curling them. "Oh _God_."

She worries at her bottom lip with her teeth as he moves to hover over her again, gazing intensely, lovingly at her and she gives him a lazy grin before letting out a shuddering breath. "On the plus side, I can see you much better from here." Her boyfriend is a complete bastard, she decides, and she would happily smack his chest if she wasn't so wrapped up in him. Instead, she pulls him down for a searing kiss, whimpering against his lips as he moves his fingers in and out, his thumb pressed to her clit now, setting a torturous pace. She shifts her hips down to meet his hand in an effort to increase his pace and he obliges.

"Fitz, _please_ ," she gasps out, breaking their steady stream of kisses, tilting her head back, chin up, one hand sprawled against his back, the other still toying with his hair. He drops his head so his lips rest against her temple as his fingers slide into her faster, his thumb rolling up against her clit. She feels herself approaching the edge and her head comes off the pillow--he gently tugs on her earlobe with his teeth and she falls into oblivion, burying her face into the crook of his neck, eyes squeezed shut.

When she finally catches her breath, she falls back against the pillow, giving a breathless chuckle. Fitz's eyes are trained on hers and she knows her face is burning for several different reasons. He withdraws his fingers and turns his head to lick them clean and she might be blushing further, but he doesn't say anything as he leans down to rest his forehead against hers. "Fuck, Jem," he murmurs, and she can see the way his jaw clenches and his head bobs as he swallows and she reaches up a hand to cup his cheek.

"Mmmm, I think _maybe_ we could both warm up some more."

"Hell, I was hoping you'd say that."

Jemma grins, nudging her nose against his as her hands slide down to his waist. "Off," she commands, and he wriggles beneath the covers on his back beside her to get his boxers off in haste and she laughs, the puff of breath almost visible in the cold of the room. He drops them unceremoniously onto the floor and turns toward her--even now, after all these years, he still watches with wonder in his eyes when they're together. She loves him all the more for it. "Come here, Fitz," she whispers, twisting to drape her arm over him before he pulls her flush against him. She can feel him hard against her thigh. "Please?"

He nudges her shoulder so she'll lie back and she does, chewing on her lip as he hovers over her. Fitz presses kisses to her shoulder as he pushes into her and she just barely gasps. His warmth radiates from his chest to hers and she places a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him up so she can kiss him because she can't wait any longer. His hips bump into hers as he pushes and pulls and she moans into his mouth.

They start to stick to each other from exertion and he is panting and she needs more, so she hooks one leg around his hips and flips them over with astounding reflexes and he stares up at her, stunned. "Jesus, Jem." The corner of her mouth turns up as she brings her face close to his, barely touching, and she slowly rocks her hips. Her eyes close when he kisses her again and she thinks this was the best idea he's had in ages, or at least a few days, maybe.

Fitz's breathing becomes more and more laboured and she's panting, too, but she bucks her hips against him until she feels his muscles tense beneath her. When he comes, she drowns out his usual strangled yelp with her mouth over his.

" _Fuck_ ," he manages to say, panting against her mouth. She chuckles breathlessly, lifting herself off of him and collapsing on her stomach, her head resting against his shoulder.

"I think--I think we might be warm enough."

He laughs, his arm slipping around her shoulders. "For now."


End file.
